


Notes from the Other Side

by junko



Series: Strawberrry Fields Forever [7]
Category: Bleach, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo's letters arrive in the Soul Society...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Notes from the Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick interlude, and because guessing what house people would be sorted into is my favorite part of Potter fandom.
> 
> For Harry Potter fans: You may just want to skip this one, as you don't know these characters or their histories at all. 
> 
> Nii-sama is the super-respectful version of onii-san, big brother. Also, Byakuya is apparently wearing his "lucky" pajamas, as the five-yen coin is considered lucky because “go-en” (five, "go"; yen, "en") in Japanese coincidentally means “good luck.” The Japanese word for “5 yen” and the Japanese word for “karma” are also homophones.

Rukia was well enough now after Aizen’s attack, that she’d started taking morning walks around the gardens of the Kuchiki estate. Even after so many years away from Inuzuri, she could never get over how beautiful everything was here. Finding a spot where she could look out at the lake, she settled on the grass to sip the bowl of tea she’d helped herself to from the kitchens. The sun had just risen no more than an hour ago. Snow geese were migrating, and they noisily called to each other as they hunted for water bugs in the reeds. Rukia’s eyes were drawn to a lanky maple tree on the far shore, its leaves beginning to turn a brassy orange, and thought about Ichigo.

It had been several days since his last letter, and she was starting to worry about him. The first time his letter materialized in front of her, it had given her quite the start. She’d been sound asleep and woke to a crackling sound. Fire seemed to float over her sickbed, and it slowly formed a square. Then, it transformed into paper and drifted lazily into her lap.

Now she'd come to expect them. They came at odd times. Byakuya, her elder brother, was still annoyed about the letter that arrived in the middle of dinner—not only did he seem irritated to have the quiet contemplation ruined, but Rukia hadn’t been able to resist reading it right away.

Rukia sighed. She’d kept them all, of course. She’d started several replies, but they always ended up crumpled on the floor, deemed either way too mushy or stiff and informal. Renji teased her mercilessly and kept calling Ichigo her ‘boyfriend.’

Oh, _that_ pissed nii-sama off no end, and she smiled at the memory.

Something floating on the lake caught her attention. A paper boat? Did it have the sputtering remains of a candle in it?

Curious, Rukia stood up and made her way to the shore. Kicking off her sandals and pulling up the hems of her hakama, she waded a little way in. But the origami boat evaded her reach, and she had to find a stick to hook it with. Finally, when she had it in her possession, she saw it: Ichigo’s cramped, if careful printing. 

Still standing ankle deep in cold water, Rukia quickly unfolded it. No longer concerned about getting her hakama wet and muddy, she started to read. 

#

When she returned to the estate and changed into fresh hakama for breakfast, she found another wet, unfolded letter at her place. Byakuya watched her silently from the other side of the low table the servant had set between them. Even though her knees would ache in no time, Rukia dutifully sat in seiza position and waited while the serving girl poured tea. 

Since Byakuya’s was recovering from his own injuries, his inky black shoulder length hair was free of the kenseikan—the bone white hairpiece that signaled his rank and station—and he wore a simple kimono. Well, simple for nii-sama, anyway. It was a burnished copper color, decorated with finely embroidered five-yen coins in golden thread.

Once the servant had backed out and knelt at the door to close it, Rukia picked up the letter with a questioning look in her eye.

“I seem to have received your letter by mistake,” Byakuya said. “It floated up to me while I was soaking in the hot springs this morning.”

“Oh, I see,” Rukia said suppressing a giggle.

Byakuya lifted up the lid of a basket containing smoked salmon. He gave her a patient, if exasperated, smile as he used the serving chopsticks to put food on her plate. “Go ahead. You might as well read it now.”

#

When Renji stopped by to see her that afternoon, he dropped another part of her letter into Rukia’s lap. “I especially like the part about the fight on the train,” Renji said, pointing out that section to her, settling down beside her. “This Neville kid sounds kind of pathetic, though.”

Rukia smacked the top of Renji’s head. “That’s private!”

“Well, then your boyfriend shouldn’t send it to me in the middle of my morning trip to the onsen, should he?”

As she picked up the letter to read, Rukia tried not to connect the fact that both her best friend and her older brother seemed to be in the hot springs at the same time. Still, she told herself it wasn’t that unusual. It was a public bathhouse after all.

Renji leaned his back against the railing of the porch she was sitting on. He faced the interior of the estate, and seemed to be scowling at a six-paneled byōbu screen—though Rukia found all his expressions seemed fierce thanks to those ridiculous eyebrow tattoos. He crossed his arms behind his bright crimson topknot and sighed. “What do you think: would I be a Gryffindor or what?”

“You, Renji? You’d be a Slytherin.”

“Oi,” he said, sitting up slightly to glare at her. “Those are the bad guys, aren’t they?”

Rukia smiled fondly at him, and shook her head pointing to the part in the letter she’d just finished reading, “Ichigo says the hat sang about ambition. I don’t know anyone more ambitious than you, Renji Abarai.”

“Huh,” he said settling back to consider it. “I do have a problem following rules that don’t fit my personal sense of justice. And, well, Zabimaru is part snake. Slytherin it is, then. What about you?”

“Hufflepuff sounds nice.”

Renji nudged her shoulder slightly and teased. “You just want to be wherever Ichigo is.”

#

Since Byakuya needed more healing treatment in the afternoon, Rukia and Renji decided to get lunch from a street vendor that catered to the shinigami in the Seireitei. They stood together in line in front of a cart selling sōsu yakisoba, stir fried ramen noodles and vegetables in sauce. The cool autumn air was warmed by the savory steam, smelling of fish sauce and fried cabbage.

All of a sudden Renji pushed himself in front of her, like he was expecting an attack. Two seconds later, she felt it—the massive, crushing reistsu of Kenpachi Zaraki, Captain of the Eleventh Division.

“Out of the way, Abarai,” Zaraki said. Zaraki never failed to frighten Rukia, even though she knew he was supposed to be on their side—but, his eye, the one that wasn’t covered by a black patch, glinted with malice. He stood almost seven feet tall, and his hair was the most insane arrangement of bell-topped spikes. He kind of looked to her like a punk rock demon from hell. The captain’s deep voice growled, “I’ve got a special delivery for the little princess.”

Rukia didn’t think Renji would step aside, so she peeked her head out from around his back. 

“Heh. There you are, you little thing,” Zaraki said with the scariest smile she’d ever seen, and he bent down to hand her a piece of paper. It was tattered and looked as though something had chewed it and spit it out. Also, it smelled kind of rancid, like really stale beer.

“I nearly fucking choked on that,” Zaraki said. “It was in my sake jug. Yumichika said it was for you.” 

Since the huge captain seemed to be waiting for something, Rukia bowed slightly and said, “Thank you very much.”

“You gonna read that?” Zaraki asked, waving off her thanks. “I want to know if that Ichigo kid is coming back any time soon. I’m itching for a rematch.”

Rukia smacked Renji in the arm, making noodles fly off the chopsticks he’d been bringing to his mouth. “See,” she said. “He didn’t read it first. Even Captain Zaraki is more polite than you are.”

“You kidding me?” Zaraki boomed. “Who can read that punk’s chicken scratch anyway?”

“Yeah, right,” Renji muttered, looking longingly at the noodles in the dirt, like he was trying to decide if he could surreptitiously pick them up and eat them anyway. “You’re totally illiterate.”

The captain took a looming step forward, making Renji and Rukia squeak a little—though Renji covered his with a cough. Zaraki said, “Watch who you’re calling illegitimate, Abarai.”

“Illiterate, sir,” Renji said with a nervous smile. “It means you never learned to read.”

“Yeah, okay, there’s that too.” Zaraki admitted with a little quirk of a grin. “So what’s it say, woman?”

The little pink-haired lieutenant Yachiru popped up from where she was hiding behind Zaraki’s massive back. “Oh! Story time! Read it, please, Ms. Rukia!”

Rukia bought lunch for herself and some noodles for Zaraki and Yachiru as well, and then they all found a spot on the curb to sit and sip noodles while Rukia read the whole thing to them.

Afterwards, Renji leaned back and asked Zaraki, “You’d be Slytherin, too, wouldn’t you, sir?”

“What, you don’t see me in Ravenclaw?” Zaraki laughed.

“I don’t know,” Rukia said, tapping her lip thoughtfully. “Maybe the captain would end up in Gryffindor. He’s not afraid of anything.”

“Damn straight,” Zaraki agreed proudly, just as Renji yelped, “Oi, neither am I!”

Rukia pointed her chopsticks at Renji’s chest, “You’ve got ambition, though, remember?”

“And your soul is half snake,” Zaraki said, pointing at Renji’s zanpaktō. “But, you know, I'm not sure. I don’t think I’m particularly chivalrous.”

“Sure, you are, sir,” Renji said, after letting out a big belch. “You’ve always taken good care of your soldiers and the little lieutenant here.”

Yachiru had fallen asleep in Rukia’s lap.

“Yeah, but I don't fight for nobody but myself. I’m nobody’s idea of a hero.”

They all nodded at that, Rukia remembering that Zaraki got his captaincy by murdering the previous captain. The haori he wore was still spattered with the blood. “I don’t know that that matters so much,” Rukia said. Putting all the pieces of the letter in order, she tucked them into the folds of her kosode, careful not to wake the little lieutenant with her movements. “I don’t think the hat judges what you do with your fearless recklessness, just that you have it.”

“I’ve got that.” Renji snorted. “I could be a Gryffindor.”

“Give it up, Abarai,” Zaraki laughed standing up to stretch. “You are what you are. Me, I’m surprised Ichigo got sorted into the busy badger house. I must not understand what the hell a Hufflepuff is—must be some weird British slang for ass-kicking.”

They all nodded, as Zaraki gently picked up Yachiru in his arms and walked away.


End file.
